Caraway's Ascension
by Dazereth Kruzich
Summary: A brief drabble about Caraway's experince in what is known as Boot Camp. I was bored. Reviews? I worships themz. I have a few other stories that could be reviewed. Your advice helps me make better works for me and you. CAUTION. One scene has stronglanguag


The sun was setting over the Galbadian post. It was an in processing regimental headquarters. Simply know to Galbadian recruits as Boot Camp or Basic. There were many soldiers running about doing miscellaneous exercises and activities. People wearing the G-34 Machina Guns on their arms were known simply as Drill Cadre. They would order around recruits. They had but a few months to make these childish men into war machines. It was task that none envied but a prideful task nonetheless.

Fury Caraway sat on the whitewash bus. Many other apprehensive recruits were fidgeting him. He was nervous. Hell, everyone was nervous. Fury wasn't sure what was going to happen. He joined the Galbadian Army after college. His degree was in Military History and Tactics. He had joined the Galbadian Army with great hopes of one day being a General. He dismissed the thought. He didn't have the focus for such a lofty goal. Maybe not the focus but Fury had the motivation. He valued his country more than anything else. More than himself. Maybe, just maybe that was enough. Seeing as he and all the people on the bus had degrees the were not sent to the main part of the base but rather to an Officer grooming area. Fury figured it would be easy. Caraway found out how wrong he was.

The bus made its way around the base, twisting and turning easily losing the cadets within its junctions and interchanges. Eventually the bus slowed to a stop in front of a large brick building. This was it. Fury was ready for anything.

Silence.

Almost instantly a large number of instructors rushed the bus and began throwing the cadet's and their belongings out of the vehicle. Forcefully. Fury saw what was coming and thought quickly about how best to remove himself from a possible sprained ankle. Thinking quickly he headed to the back of the bus with his duffle and hopped out of the emergency exit, rushing to the recruits. Fury fell into formation quickly and held his bag above his head like the rest of the recruits. Jogging in place Fury found his mind drifting. Anything to stop the pain.

"Who in the bloody grendel fuck used the emergency exit!?" One Drill Cadre was yelling at the group. His veins on his neck were bulging, his face was red. A pissed off lobster with a gun on his arms.

Fury huffed "I did Drill Cadre!" He avoided eye contact with the belligerent instructor and maintained his discipline as best he could. Fury was scared as to what was about to happen to him. Nevertheless he kept his head held high. He had to or this place would eat him alive.

For the next three hours that particular Drill Cadre had Fury running laps, doing flutter kicks and push-ups until Cadet Caraway threw up--twice. Fury thought it would never end. His body screamed in protest. He didn't want to go on. Never did quitting pass his mind.

Fury finally got to retire and he rejoined his platoon at the Issue Facility. Red uniforms were dolled out with white lettering on the front that read "CADET". His metal plated boots already had a scuff on them from storage and his gauntlets were slightly rusty. He grumbled something about a budget and made his way to the end of the line to sign for his items. Next was weapons issue. The officers sabers were dolled out and signed for. Next the tags were printed.

Fury looked down at his tags and finally felt like a real soldier:

"CARAWAY, FURY S."

"459-48-3729"

"O POS"

"ATHEIST"

He rubbed the thin cheap aluminum through his fingers feeling the letters. He was excited about all of his new gear. He would soon learn to hate it. Many things were issued out to the Cadets over the first day. In between massive punitive exercises they would receive new items. Eventually lunch came.

There was to be no talking in the lunch line. No moving. No communication. No looking. No breathing.

Fury sighed as a lump not even a round of meat was dolled onto his metallic tray. The woman serving the meal had to be the most homely lady he had ever seen. Fury counted her teeth on one hand and still had fingers left. He cringed every time he saw that mole. He was terrified it would fall into his…Meatloaf? Sadly the gravy was so clumpy he probably wouldn't tell the difference.

The day was finished it what seemed like short order. The Cadets had been shuffled around so much the time passed quickly for them. Fury sat on his bunk vigorously applying Brass-O to his blade, boots and gauntlets. The lights were already out and most recruits asleep. Yet there was furry already through half the bottle of Brass-O. At around 4 in the morning he felt content about his boots and uniform and headed to bed.

Fury had about an hour of sleep before the Drill Cadre burst into the Barracks throwing trashcans and bunks. Sometimes with people in them. Fury quickly hopped out of bed dashed in front of his bed at attention. The Cadets were instructed to get dressed. They were going for a 7 mile run. Fury quickly complied. His bunk mate, a young man by the name of Kinneas, grumbled a bit and mentioned something about a farm and home. Kinneas talked about his little boy a lot. Single Caraway would rather have not heard it but he let the man prattle on about his child.

The 7 mile trek was hardly easy for anyone. The Drill Cadre seemed to be having fun, socializing well ahead of the group. The run was completed with a fair bit of difficulty. The Cadets arrived on a hilltop overlooking the main training area of the base. Drill Cadre Menito pointed down to the hundreds of men conducting various exercises. "Look at them. They are relying on you. You will bring them home to their wives. To their children. Your job is to take care of them. They depend on you. Don't let them down."

From that day forward things changed a bit for Fury. He began to work harder. He was the ideal soldier.


End file.
